


Square R3: A Cinderella Story

by dracusfyre



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Challenge [16]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Based on the tween movie, M/M, Modern Cinderella Story, Phone Sex, ableist slurs, not the fairy tale, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracusfyre/pseuds/dracusfyre
Summary: Tony Stark comes home from his parents' funeral to find out that both he and Stark Industries were on the brink of bankruptcy.  After months of slaving away trying to save his family's company, he decides to let himself have one night of fun at a masked ball to benefit military veterans.Bucky Barnes doesn't know much about the sexy stranger from the masked ball, except that his name is Tony and he has an ass that makes him want to get on his knees and give thanks. When he ends up with the man's cell phone at the end of the night, he hopes that this will give him a chance to learn more.





	1. Clock Strikes Midnight

        Tony groaned and rubbed his eyes, leaning back against the couch which, like the floor and the coffee table and almost every other available source, was covered with papers from his parents’ estate.  This particular stack was Howard’s R&D pipeline, a bunch of designs that were fascinating, brilliant, and entirely impractical.

        “This is just like those goddamn flying cars,” Tony said aloud to the room.  “Flashy but ultimately a waste of money.  Goddammit, Dad, what in the hell were you _thinking_?”  He stared at one of the missile designs that would have been groundbreaking if the necessary propulsion, you know, _existed._   Flipping through the paperwork, he saw that somehow Stark Industries had spent 25 million dollars developing a missile that couldn’t fly.  He put that in the “what the fuck” pile, which was already way higher than it should be, and dug out the next folder.  This one, excitingly, turned out to be pages and pages of coordinates that had been crossed through; when Tony looked them up on his laptop, they were all locations in the Arctic Circle.  Stuffed in with them were yellowing receipts from a charter boat company in Newfoundland, Canada, spaced out over years.  Tony sighed and set that one in the trash pile. “You and your stupid quests,” he muttered, and picked up the next file.  Tax receipts from 1976, it looked like.

        Joy.

 

        “Hello?” Tony jerked awake, dislodging a stack of papers from his lap, as a voice called out from the front door.  “I knocked, but…”

        Tony scrubbed a hand over his face and went to the door.  “Can I help you?” He asked when he saw the intruder, a tall, willowy woman in a stylish but off the rack suit, red hair up in a chignon.

        “Mr. Stark?” She asked, and when Tony nodded she held out her hand. “I’m Virginia Potts, from Stark Industries.  I was sent here to help you sort out your parent’s estate.” When Tony shook her hand, she squeezed it lightly with a soft look in her eyes before letting it go.  “I’m sorry for your loss,” and when she said it Tony’s throat got tight from the sincerity and sympathy in her tone.

        He just nodded and avoided her eyes as he gestured for her to come inside. “So what, are you the CFO?” he asked, clearing his throat.

        “Um, no,” she said, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.  She came to a sudden stop when she saw the chaos in Tony’s living room.  “But I do work for him.”

        “So, a vice president or something?”  Tony started gathering up papers from the arm chair to make a place for her to sit.

        “No.”

        He stilled and glanced up at her.  “Then what in the hell was your job?”

        “I’m an auditor.  Was an auditor,” she amended. “Now I’m your personal assistant.” She forced a bright smile as she glanced around the room.  “Where should we start?”

        “Well, aren’t you peppy,” Tony said sourly as he headed to the well-stocked liquor cabinet, which had been the only saving grace of the whole situation.  “You know you got sent here as a punishment, right?  This isn’t a promotion.  You’re going to die here with me, buried under decades of paperwork.”

        “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” she said.  “This doesn’t look so bad.  Now that there’s two of us…” she faltered in the face of Tony’s flat stare.

        “Follow me,” he said, grabbing his glass of whiskey.  Ms. Potts followed him through the echoing halls of the mansion to the garage, and when he turned on the lights she gasped.  There were boxes stacked as high as her head all along the wall of the garage and between the flashy, expensive cars.  There was no way to get to the far end of the room without literally crawling on top of the cars.  “Research notes, correspondence, tax documents and other financial instruments…all from the past three decades of my parents’ life.  Stark Industries is drowning in debt,” he said honestly, “and so am I.  I need to go through this and find out where all of our money went and if there’s anything left so that I don’t have to declare bankruptcy.”

        “Oh my God,” she said faintly.

        “Yeah.” 

        They contemplated the overwhelming pile of boxes in silence for a while before Ms. Potts raised her chin and said, “Then I guess we better get started.”

***

        Three months later, Tony made the mistake of telling Obie that they were almost done going through the boxes in the garage. He smiled and congratulated them, and then a week later a box truck was beeping loudly as it backed up into the garage.

        “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Pepper said as she watched the delivery men carrying more boxes of paperwork, stacking them chest high in the garage.

        “I hate my life,” Tony said, already heading for the liquor cabinet.

***

        Tony rubbed his eyes, which felt like they were going cross-eyed from reading so many bullshit financial projections. “I gotta get out of this goddamn house,” Tony said, tossing the file on the stack for the burn pile, which was already big enough to probably require a permit from the fire marshal.

        “Are you sure?” Pepper said doubtfully.  She lowered the lid of her laptop so she could see Tony.   “It doesn’t really seem like this is the time for partying.  The investors need –“

        “The investors need to mind their own goddamn business for just one night.” Tony rolled his shoulders and massaged the back of his neck, trying to get his headache to ease off.  “I haven’t had a day – or night – off since Mom and Dad died.  I think I’ve earned at least a few hours with people who aren’t associated with Stark Industries.”

        “Sure, I guess so.” Pepper put down her pen and stretched.  “So where are you going to go?”

        Tony got up and dug through the junk drawer in the kitchen, where he’d put all the invitations to parties and fundraisers and galas that kept streaming in even though he’d yet to attend any of them.   He had no money to spend on new clothes and too much pride to go out and listen to people gossip about why he was wearing something from last year’s designer.   He tossed out all of the ones that were expired but lingered over one of three invitations for this evening.  “How about this?” he suggested, handing her a glossy stock card.

        “Fundraiser costume ball,” Pepper read.  “Proceeds to benefit disabled military veterans.”

        “I could wear a mask,” Tony pointed out. “The gossip rags and therefore the investors would never know I was there.”

        “That’s true.  But tickets are $500 a person,” she said, showing him the fine print at the bottom of the invite, “and you need a costume.”

        “But they take donations for the charity auction in lieu of cash,” Tony called out over his shoulder, already heading for his parents’ rooms, which he still hadn’t gotten around to boxing up yet.  “I can give them one of Dad’s watches or Mom’s antiques or something.  As for a costume, let me introduce you to my attic…”

 

        “I may have made a terrible mistake,” Tony said faintly when he walked into the main hall where everyone was gathered, mingling and eating the hors d’oeuvres.  Pepper coughed trying to cover her laugh, because she knew exactly what he meant.  Half of the people were wearing a variety of cute or sexy or revealing clothing, but the other half were wearing uniforms, a dignified smattering of dress blues and whites. 

        Tony had always had a weakness for a person in a uniform.

        “You can have your fun tonight, Tony – I mean, not _too_ much fun,” she said. “I think the last thing you need right now is to try to juggle a relationship along with everything else.”

        “I know, I know.” Tony adjusted his Venetian mask, one of many from his mother’s collection, and took a deep breath.  “I’ll behave.  Just a few drinks, a little chit chat with a handsome military guy, and I’ll go home and get back to the grindstone in the morning.”

        “Good plan.” Pepper was also wearing a mask, along with a beaded and embroidered gown, both stolen from his Mom’s closet.   Tony was wearing the deep burgundy and black tuxedo he’d worn to his prom, which Pepper had assured him still looked great, especially with the simple black-and-white mask he’d found.  “You have until midnight, remember? That’s what we agreed.”

        “Yes, Mom. I mean, ma’am,” Tony said, smiling at the glare he got from Pepper. He gestured with his phone.  “I set an alarm to remind me in case I start having too much fun.”

        “And if you have a hangover in the morning, I’m not going to have any mercy on you,” she warned.

        Tony turned to face her, taking her hands and kissing the back of them.  “Don’t worry about me.  You’re supposed to be having a good time too, you know.”

        Pepper took a deep breath and smoothed the look of worry from her face, replacing it with a smile.  “You’re right. I will.”

        “Too many handsome men and beautiful ladies here to be so stressed.”

        “Exactly.” Pepper’s eyes flickered over his shoulder and when she looked back at Tony, her smile widened.  “One of them already noticed you.”

        “Yeah?” Tony smothered the urge to look over his shoulder.  “Who?”

        “Dark hair, blue eyes, lips that look like sin and one of those dimples in his chin but in a cute way.  Army uniform with one sleeve pinned, has been staring at your butt since we came in.” She straightened his tie and picked a piece of lint off his lapel. “By the bar. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

        “You’re the best.” He grinned and kissed her on her cheek.  As he turned towards the bar he saw the man Pepper had been talking about, leaning against the bar and watching him with unabashed interest. 

        Pepper was right.  The man’s mouth really did look like sin, especially as he bit his lip and looked away when he realized he’d been caught staring.  So Tony did a little staring of his own, taking in the shoulders that filled out the blue dress jacket and the long, long legs, made longer by the stripe on the side of his pants.  As Pepper mentioned, the left sleeve was pinned up close to the shoulder, but the man’s right hand was cradling a glass of champagne, looking strong and capable against the delicate glass stem.  

        He only had a few hours until midnight, so he was going to be damned if he was going to waste time being coy. He made his way to the bar, not even being shy as he pushed his way close to the guy, who was still trying to pretend that he hadn’t been staring. “Hello, Sergeant Sexy,” Tony said, praying he read the man’s rank correctly. “Is this spot taken?”

        The man’s eyes lit up when he saw Tony.  This close, Tony could tell that Pepper had been wrong about his eyes, which were a beautiful gray instead of blue.  “Hello, Mysterious and Handsome,” the man returned, moving over to give Tony a little more room. “Sergeant James Barnes, at your service.  Can I buy you a drink?”

        Tony struggled not to smile.  “Isn’t it an open bar?” He pointed out.

        “Yeah, but I’ll pay the tip,” Sergeant Sexy said generously.

        Tony couldn’t help himself. “Just the tip?”

        “No, I’ll put in however much you want,” he promised, lips twitching as he set his glass down to reach for his wallet.  “I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”

        “And how much is that?”

        “More than enough,” he said as he gave Tony a broad wink.  “At least, I’ve never had any complaints.”

        “Good to know.” Tony stuck out his hand.  “I’m Tony, and I’ll take a glass of champagne, if it’s any good.”

        “Well, it’s no Dom Perignon but it didn’t come out of a box,” the man said, shaking his hand.  His palms were warm and slightly rough, grip firm.  It felt good enough in Tony’s own hand that he was reluctant to let go.  “And my friends call me Bucky.”

        “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”  Tony accepted his drink from the bartender, thanking her with a smile, and watched as Bucky tucked a five into the tip box.  “So what do you do?” Tony asked, moving out of the way of the next person in line.

        “I’m a professional baseball player,” Bucky said with a straight face.  Tony stared at him blankly, trying to imagine how one would swing a bat one handed, before he noticed the glint in Bucky’s eye.

        “Interesting,” Tony said, taking a sip of champagne.  “So are you a pitcher or catcher?”

        That made Bucky choke on his drink and it was a few moments before he could laugh without coughing.  “Smooth,” he finally managed.

        “I’m surprised you don’t get that all the time.”

        “Well last time I said massage therapist-”

        “Because you don’t have any problems getting people to get naked and lay down for you?” Tony said without missing a beat.

        “-and before that it was HVAC technician.”

        Tony nodded wisely.  “I can believe that you would like helping people out once you get them all hot and bothered.”

        “That’s a good one,” Bucky said in admiration.  “I didn’t think anyone could make air conditioning sexy, but you managed.”

        “Are you kidding? Air conditioning is sexy all by itself.  What’s better than getting all hot and sweaty and the stretching out across the bed naked to cool off?”

        “Hot showers,” Bucky returned immediately.  “Swimming pools.”

        “When you’re right, you’re right,” Tony allowed.  “Next time your job could be pool boy.”

        Bucky gestured to his mostly missing left arm.  “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’d look good enough in a swimsuit to qualify for that.”

        Tony raised his eyebrow and his gaze raked Bucky from head to toe.  Then, keeping his eyes steady on Bucky’s, he threw his napkin over Bucky’s shoulder.  Bucky rolled his eyes but obediently bent over to pick it up, letting Tony get a good look of his ass in his dress pants.  “Oh I doubt that,” Tony said in a low voice when Bucky straightened and handed him back his napkin, “but if you’d feel self-conscious about it, I would build a pool in my back yard and keep you all to myself.”

         “A kept man, huh,” Bucky said, and was he _blushing?_ “Flattering.  I’ll keep it in mind. So what do _you_ do?”

        Tony grimaced, playful mood deflating a little, and took a sip of his drink.  “I work too much for a bunch of ungrateful assholes. I mean, I own my own company, but the shareholders are real bastards.” 

        "I know what you mean.  Well, not about shareholders, but working for assholes." Bucky held out his hand and said, "Wanna complain all about it while we dance?"

        "Oh, boy, would I." Tony set his drink down on a small table tucked between a pillar and a ficus tree so he could put his hand in Bucky's.  To his surprise, Bucky paused for a moment, listening to the beat of the music, and then whisked Tony onto the dance floor, seamlessly stepping into the slow waltz that the orchestra was playing.  "Oh, is this how it is?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised.

        "Yep," Bucky said with a smile. It took Tony a moment to kick his instinct to lead and instead follow Bucky's guidance as he wove them around the other dancers.  As they danced, Tony was level with Bucky's mouth and could see the slight darkening of Bucky's five o'clock shadow along his jaw; he wanted to press his lips to it, feel the slight stubble against his skin, but instead he dragged his gaze up to look over Bucky's shoulder when he realized he'd been staring.  He swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of how long it'd been since he'd been this close to someone.

        "I hope this doesn't come out insulting, but you seem really young to have shareholders," Bucky commented, breaking Tony's thoughts.  He raised his hand to guide Tony into a spin before bring him back in close.  "Are you one of those young prodigy types?"

       "It's my Dad's company," Tony said, lengthening his stride to match Bucky's as he maneuvered them around another couple.   "He died recently, and I, uh, found out he wasn't as good a businessman as I'd always thought, so." He shrugged, trying to choke down the bitterness that welled up at the thought.  After his parents’ funeral, when the hammer had dropped that Stark Industries was struggling on the brink of bankruptcy, Tony’s own plans - his whole life really - had gone up in smoke.  "I spend almost all of my time these days trying to clean up his mess."

        “Sorry to hear that,” Bucky said sympathetically.  The waltz ended and turned into something slower, so Bucky moved them to the edge of the dance floor and put his hand on Tony's waist, letting their waltz turn into more of a sway.  Tony went with it, looping his hands around the back of Bucky's neck, fingers brushing the short hairs there.  Bucky's woodsy cologne made him want to lean in closer. “So you’re, what, a princess locked away in a tower, slaving away under your cruel stepmother? And tonight you ran away to the ball?” 

         “I think you’re mixing your fairy tales up a bit, but pretty much,” Tony said ruefully.  Bucky's fingers were moving in small circles on his waist, and it was incredibly distracting in the best way.  Tony retaliated by raking his fingernails down the nape of Bucky's neck, relishing Bucky's sharp inhale and the way his eyes grew darker as they met Tony's.  

        “Well, obviously I’m no expert, but in most fairy tales I think there’s a curse that can only be lifted by a kiss from a handsome prince,” Bucky said, voice rough.

        “Oh yeah?” Tony had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.  “I _have_ been feeling rather cursed lately.”

        Bucky's eyes fell to Tony's mouth and he licked his lips. “I’d be glad to offer my services, if you think it will help.”

        “Very generous of you. It can’t hurt to try, right?”

        “My thoughts exactly.”

        Tony glanced around the room, which had, if possible, gotten even more crowded.  “So are you going to invite me somewhere a little more private?”

        Bucky pulled away and laced his fingers in Tony’s. “I know just the place.”

        “I hope it’s a coat closet,” Tony said as he followed Bucky through the crowd.  “I’ve always wanted to make out in a coat closet.”

        “Yeah, but people always get walked in on.  Where I have in mind is better.”  It only took two turns before the muted rumbled of the crowded ballroom faded away, but the hallways weren’t quite deserted.  They walked for a few more minutes before Bucky finally stopped.

        “A bathroom?” Tony said incredulously, seeing the discrete sign on the door.

        “You have to check out this bathroom,” Bucky promised as he opened the door.  Sure enough, as he hustled Tony inside Tony had to admit that it was a good spot.  This was one of those restrooms that for some reason had a sitting room attached, with a fancy oriental carpet on the marble tile floor and couches that looked more fancy than comfortable.  The stalls and sinks could barely be seen through a curtain on the other side of the room.

        Tony turned around and laughed when he saw Bucky moving one of the couches in front of the door.  “I like the way you think,” he said as he helped pull it into place so they couldn’t be interrupted.

        “I like you,” Bucky said simply, sitting down and patting the space beside him.  “Join me?”

        Tony smiled.  “I’ve got a better seat in mind,” he murmured, and climbed into Bucky’s lap, kneeling over him.  “Is this okay?”

        “More than,” he murmured, making a noise deep in his chest as Tony settled his weight on Bucky’s thighs.  “Am I going to get to see your face?” He asked, cupping Tony’s jaw with his hand and tracing Tony’s cheek at the edge of the mask with his thumb.

        Tony hmmmed thoughtfully and started to loosen his tie.  “You know, I’m really enjoying this mysterious stranger vibe I’ve got going on,” he said, when what he really meant was _I like not being Tony Stark for a while and I don’t want to ruin it._ He held up his tie and said, “Do you mind?”

        Bucky shrugged.  “If it would make you feel more comfortable,” he said, fingers moving to trace the outline of Tony’s lips.  “But, um, I gotta ask – this isn’t because you’re married or anything, right?”

        “No, nothing like that, I promise,” Tony said, turning his head slightly to kiss Bucky’s fingers.  “I’m just not ready to have the fairy tale be over yet.”  At Bucky’s slight nod he draped the tie over Bucky’s eyes, tying it behind his head.  When he was sure that Bucky couldn’t see, he untied his mask and set it on the couch.  Bucky’s hand had drifted down to Tony’s chest, palm flat over his sternum; Tony wanted to lean into the warm weight of it, greedy for more. 

        He framed Bucky’s face in his hands and leaned down to brush his lips over Bucky’s, feeling Bucky’s soft sigh wash over his skin at the light contact.  Bucky let his head fall back against the couch, seemingly content to let Tony set the pace.  His hand smoothed over Tony’s ribs to his back, stroking up and down Tony’s spine as he pressed light kisses to Bucky’s mouth.

        “It’s been so long since I’ve had something like this,” Bucky said softly, breath feathering against Tony's cheek.

        “Me, too.”  Tony suddenly wished he could see Bucky’s eyes, tempted to take the risk that Bucky would recognize him just for the chance to feel the sense of connection.  “It’s like I’ve been drowning for months and this is my first breath of air.”   

        “I haven’t been with anyone since I lost my arm,” Bucky confessed.  “Guys on the dating scene don’t seem to be thrilled about going out with a disabled veteran. And the ones that are…” Bucky shrugged.  “They’re all weird about it.”

        Tony snorted and kissed the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “The world is full of idiots and cowards.  They must not have ever spoken to you.”

        “No, that part was all you.” Bucky turned his head, chasing Tony’s mouth. “You’re easy to talk to, you make me feel charming.”

        “Well, you’re my Prince Charming,” Tony said, and slanted his lips over Bucky’s. When Tony’s tongue came out to trace over the softness of Bucky’s lower lip, Bucky groaned and opened his mouth, chasing Tony’s tongue with his own.  His hand tightened on Tony’s back, pulling him closer, making Tony moan when he realized Bucky was hard.  He rocked against him, chasing the intoxicating pressure as Bucky’s tongue curled against his own, tasting faintly of champagne.

        “Jesus,” Bucky said with a gasp, fingers curling to rake down Tony’s back. He huffed out a laugh.  “I want to touch you all over but I only have one goddamn hand,” he complained.

        Tony put his hand over Bucky’s and moved it down to cup his ass.  “You can start here, if you want,” he said with a smile.  “Since you were staring at it earlier.”

        “I couldn’t help myself.” Bucky squeezed the rounded muscle under his hand. “Rarely have I seen a more perfect ass. These thighs, too.”

        Tony’s laugh at that was a little breathless, because Bucky had moved his hand around to Tony’s hip, thumb stroking the inside of his thigh and making his blood sing. “Not fair,” he said, acutely aware of the place where Bucky kept idly stroking, teasingly close to where Tony’s erection was pressing against the front of his pants. He tugged at the thick fabric of Bucky’s dress jacket. “You might as well be wearing body armor.”

        “Not everywhere,” Bucky said with a sly grin, pulling Tony down as he thrust his hips up.  Tony bit back a gasp as the sensation of Bucky’s hardness against his own made his head spin. He felt his eyelids slide lower, getting drunk on the sensation as he rocked against Bucky. He pressed kisses to Bucky’s cheek, along the edge of the makeshift blindfold, before he found Bucky’s lips again.  Bucky made a sound deep in his chest and his hand came up to cradle Tony’s head, fingers burying themselves in his thick hair, and held him still while he ravaged his mouth. For long minutes Tony's world narrowed to the warm glide of their lips and tongues, Bucky's hand on his body and the feel of his short, silky hair against his fingers, the tempting muscles and hardness between Tony's thighs. 

        Then a shrill beeping split the soft silence, making both of them jump.

        “Goddammit,” Tony cursed against Bucky’s mouth, pulling away to find his phone.

        “What’s that for?” Bucky said as soon as the alarm was silenced.  Tony fumbled for his mask, sliding it on so that he could uncover Bucky’s eyes.

        “I gotta go,” Tony said regretfully as he stood, trying to fix his clothes so he didn’t look too disheveled from Bucky's wandering hand.  “I promised a friend we would leave at midnight.”

        “I’m sorry to hear that.”  Bucky got to his feet as well and tilted Tony’s chin up one more time to press a lingering kiss on his lips.  “Am I going to see you again? So to speak?”

        Tony paused, torn.  Pepper had been absolutely right when she said he didn’t have the time or resources for a relationship right now, but Bucky was hot and sweet and funny and looking at him with so much hope in those beautiful gray eyes.

        “I can’t make any promises,” he said finally.  “But I do want to, so I’ll try, ok?”

        “I understand,” Bucky said with a sad smile. He dug out a napkin from his pocket, jotted down his cell phone number, and tucked it into Tony’s jacket.  “My number is on there if you want it.”

        Bucky watched Tony hustle out the door, tie still askew, and went to the mirrors to make sure his uniform was still regulation and his medals were straight.  As he pushed the couch back to where it belonged, he felt his foot hit something on the floor.

        “Uh oh,” he said, picking up Tony’s phone. _Guess I’ll be seeing you again after all,_ he thought, feeling a bit guilty about how happy the prospect made him.


	2. The Evil Father Figure

            “I can’t go!” Tony wheedled, following Pepper around the living room.  “I don’t want him to know who I am, and it’s not like I can wear a mask to meet him!”

            “Tony-!” Pepper exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why don’t you want him to know who you are?”

            “Because being a Stark…it just comes with so much _baggage._ ” Tony grimaced.  “You know? I just want to be just Tony, not Tony _Stark_.”

            Pepper studied him with exasperation and Tony did his best to look both pitiful and sincere. “Fine.  You’re being ridiculous, but fine.  But while I’m out, I’m going to sit down and have a nice lunch where I don’t look at or think about any of this,” she said, gesturing to the mess of papers around them.

            “Totally fair.  You should.” Tony gave her a fifty from his wallet and kissed her on the cheek.  Slowly, so as to not start any gossip, Tony had been selling off some of his mom’s treasured antiques; the most recent to go was a two hundred year old china cabinet that she’d inherited from her aunt.  Tony had been sad to see it go – Mother had been so proud of it – but he enjoyed the ten grand he’d gotten for it, since that let him pay the bills for a few more months.

            “And don’t mess with my computer,” she added.  “I’m in the middle of something, and I don’t want you to accidentally close a screen or mess with my spreadsheet.”

            “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony promised, putting one hand over his heart and the other in the air.

             

            “You owe me more than lunch for that,” Pepper announced when she came back two hours later, kicking the door closed behind her as she put her purse down and took off her shoes. “That poor boy looked so disappointed but was still so polite about it.”

            Tony winced. “Was he really mad?”

            “No, of course not.  He’s far too much of a gentleman to be mad about it.” She glared at him, holding his phone out of his reach.  “You be good to him, Tony, you hear me?”

            “I really like him, Pep,” he said. “I'm going to be honest with him and I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

            "Honest with him like not telling him who you are?" Pepper said pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

            "Look, I don't need your help to feel bad about that part, but do you blame me?"

            Pepper sighed as she handed over the phone, because she knew what he meant.  As soon as the gossip rags had found out about the long hours Pepper was putting in here at Tony's home, they had been relentless trying to get pictures of them together. “I’m not going to lecture you anymore, but only because he’s clearly got it just as bad as you do.”

            “Yeah?” Tony’s shoulders relaxed, releasing a tension he hadn’t noticed until it was gone.  As he unlocked the phone he was unable to keep the foolish grin from his face as he put Bucky’s number into his contact list and texted him.  "You're the best. Have I mentioned that lately?"

***

            Bucky heard his phone ding and gladly took a break from filling in information on the Veteran Administration’s antiquated database.  His heart jumped when he saw it was a message from Tony.

_Hey handsome, how’s your day going?_

_Meh,_ Bucky wrote back. _Same same. You?_

            Tony’s next message was a picture of what looked like a fort built out of those cardboard boxes used to store paperwork, with someone, probably Tony given that tousled dark hair, peering over the top, eyes concealed by giant binoculars.   While Bucky was smiling goofily at the picture, his phone chimed again.  _Pepper is making me go to a board meeting._ Then came a gif of a vampire hissing at sunlight.

            Bucky laughed and took a picture of the stack of files on his desk.  _I have to type all of this into the computer ONE HANDED! Wanna trade?_

It only took a moment for Tony’s response to come back.  _No voice to text?_

Bucky snorted. _Where do you think I work, Stark Industries?_ He took a picture of his computer, one of those giant CPUs with the clunky monitor that was still running on last decade’s version of Windows, and sent it.

            _I think I’ve seen one of those in a museum_ , was Tony’s response. _What does it run on? Windows 2.0?_

            _I don’t know. There’s a family of mice that have been living in it for enough generations to have become sentient, I’ll ask them._

            _You do that.  What are you doing later?_

            Bucky’s heart jumped again and he sat up a little straighter. _Nothing really. Maybe the gym. Why?_

            _I’d really love to hear your voice tonight.  Call me?_

            Bucky sighed, trying not to feel too disappointed. _Of course, sweetheart,_ he wrote back.  _What time?_ For weeks now, this had been most of their interactions; lots of texts during the day and a few stolen hours on the phone together when they weren't too busy or tired. 

             _Close to bed time.  I'll help you relax ;)_  Bucky laughed aloud at that, disappointment forgotten.  The rest of the afternoon went by about as quickly one would expect; Bucky forced himself to go to the gym for all the usual reasons, and then straightened his apartment to kill even more time. He took a shower and then finally at 9:30 he figured it was late enough to call.  

           Settling back onto his nice clean sheets, he dialed Tony’s number.  “Gonna help me relax, huh? What did you have in mind?” he asked when he heard Tony pick up. 

            “Soothing ocean noises, naturally. Kissshhhhh, kissshhhhhh, scraw scraw, whooooooaarrrrrrrr – that last one was whale song by the way, very New Age. Why, what did _you_ have in mind?”

            “I wish I were kissing you,” Bucky said. “I think I just fell in love with you because you think seagulls say ‘scraw.’”

            “Excuse me,” Tony said, sounding offended. “You have apparently never heard seagulls fighting over a french fry. They _definitely_ say scraw.”

            Bucky grinned at the ceiling. “If you say so.  Now take your clothes off.”

            Tony huffed out a laugh.  “This is the most aggressive phone sex I’ve ever had.  I like it.” In the background Bucky heard Pepper shout _“Tony! Get the hell out of here!”_ while Tony laughed.  “Ok, ok, I’m in my room,” he said, and then he made a noise like he was laying down for the first time in a really long time, a sighing groan that made Bucky’s heart ache. “Getting naked now.”

            “Good. Wish I could be there to do it for you,” Bucky said, closing his eyes so he could imagine it.   

            “Yeah?” There was the ruffling of clothing in the background. “Well, I’m definitely in the mood to just lay back and let you do all the work,” he said, tiredness starting to bleed into his voice.

            “That’s fine, sweetheart. I’d be happy to take care of you.”  Bucky put the phone on speaker and set it on the pillow next to his ear as he shoved his own pants over his hips.  "You’ve had such a long day, I just want to make you feel good.”

            “Oh, you already are,” Tony murmured.  “Just hearing your voice is enough to make my day better."

            That made a heat bloom in Bucky’s chest.  He smiled at the ceiling and said, “I'm going to start by kissing that sweet, smart mouth of yours. I could kiss you for hours, just lay there and feel your body next to mine."

            “Mmm, yeah,” Tony said, voice deepening. “That sounds nice.”

            "But eventually I'm going to kiss my way down your neck, then I'm going to see how sensitive your nipples are. Would you like that? For me to put my mouth all over your chest, tease your nipples until they are hard and aching?"

            "Oh yeah, I'd like that," Tony said, his breath coming faster now. 

            "Then I would kiss my way down your stomach while I was pulling your pants off. I’d get between your legs and press a kiss to the inside of your thigh.” Bucky traced lazy patterns on the skin below his belly button, avoiding his erection.  “I like sucking bruises there, something that only you and I would know about.”

            "Yessss," Tony said on a sigh. "I want you to mark me up, let me know that I'm yours."

            "Fuck, Tony," Bucky said roughly. He let his eyes drift shut, imaging Tony naked and spread out on his bed, his mobile mouth already swollen and bitten red, chest and thighs pink from Bucky's mouth. “As I work my way up your thighs, I spread your knees nice and wide to make room for me, maybe drape them over my shoulders." 

            Tony made another noise, deep in his chest, that went straight to Bucky's cock. "While you’re down there, I want to run my fingers through that dark silky hair of yours,” he said.  "Maybe pull on it a little."

             _Yes, do that,_ Bucky thought with a shiver of arousal. "You know, it’s longer than the last time you saw it. You could get good fistfuls of it and direct me where you wanted me.”  

            Tony moaned and Bucky thought he could hear the slick sounds of Tony touching himself. “After all of that, I don’t know if I could put up with much more teasing, I’d definitely want your mouth on me like, _yesterday.”_

            "So you're the impatient type?"  Bucky pictured that, Tony’s thighs tensing restlessly, face and chest flush with arousal.  "Well, this is my rodeo and since I'm not in a hurry, I'm going to take my time now that I've finally got you under me and naked." Encouraged by Tony's moan, Bucky continued, "Tell me how you like it, baby, so that I can make it good for you. You want me to suck it hard and fast or slow and sloppy?”  He finally gave in and wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly so he could concentrate on the sounds coming through the phone. “I’d like to take it as deep as I could, see how much I could take.”

            Tony’s breath hitched on another moan. “I’m not going to last long," he said breathlessly.  "Seeing your lips wrapped around my cock would probably do it for me.” The slick wet sounds coming through the phone got faster.

            “Yeah?” Bucky said roughly, his own hand moving faster too.  “Which would you like better, me holding you down so I could work you over nice and slow, or would you want to hold my head still while you fuck my mouth?”  God, Bucky would love it either way – the slight sting as Tony pulled his hair and the look of hot arousal in his eyes as he chased his orgasm, or wringing desperate noises from him as he took Tony right to the edge and backed off until he couldn’t take it anymore.

            In his ear, Tony cursed and panted. “I think about your mouth all the time, Bucky. How your body felt against mine. I wish I could have gotten my hands on your skin that night.”

            Bucky had to squeeze the base of his cock hard to keep from coming at the sound of Tony falling apart. “Well you’ve got me now, sweetheart. How about you come down my throat then you can do whatever you want to me?”

            Tony’s long, drawn out moan as he came sent a hot shiver all the way down Bucky’s spine. “Fuck,” he finally said breathlessly. “I mean… _damn._ You are good at that.”

            “Mmm, I’ve been told I have a good sex voice,” Bucky purred, wishing he could see Tony relaxed and happy. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

            Tony’s laugh at that was deep and rumbly, like he was already drifting to sleep. “If I had more energy, I’d tell you everything I’d like to do to you, but for now, why don’t you come up here and show me how you like to touch yourself?”

            “Yeah, I’d like that,” Bucky said, letting himself sink back into the fantasy. “I’d crawl up your body and straddle your waist, looking at you all fucked out and boneless under me.”

            “At your mercy, even,” Tony said, and _fuck,_ yeah, that was hot. Tony’s hands handcuffed to the headboard so that Bucky could take his time, maybe edging him until Tony was begging for it. Bucky grunted and pressed his head back against the pillow, hand moving faster over his cock.  “Oh, you like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Tony’s voice was dark and knowing and Bucky could just imagine the wicked look in his eyes.  “You want to tie me up and have your way with me, don’t you? Tell me, do you like to use toys, because I have a _lot_ of fun toys,” and that, that was it, the image of Tony writhing, bound and blindfolded, while Bucky used a vibrator on him broke Bucky’s brain.  The air punched out of him with a helpless grunt as he spilled, hot and messy, all over his stomach and chest. His hips jerked with the force of it and it felt like it just kept _going_ , waves and waves of uncoiling pleasure, all the way to his toes.  He eventually managed a ragged inhale, then another, finally realizing that Tony had been murmuring praise in his ear the whole time.

            “Damn, that was hot,” Tony said as Bucky shivered one last time and looked for something to clean himself off with.  “If I was less tired, it would make me want to go again.”

            “Oh, God, gimme a minute,” Bucky said with a smile, tossing his now extra dirty towel in the direction of the laundry. “I’m an old man here.” He stretched and surprised himself by yawning.

            “Uh huh,” Tony said skeptically, then his voice softened. “Get some sleep, Bucky.  Thanks for calling.”

            “Oh, no, thank _you_.  You get some rest, too, ok?” Tony muttered something sleepily that sounded like an affirmative and Bucky's heart ached; _I love you_ , was on the tip of his tongue but Bucky swallowed it back and hung up before he said something foolish.

***

            Two weeks later, Bucky was working the front desk at the VA when he heard the jingle of the door opening.  "Welcome to the VA, make sure you sign in," he said automatically, gesturing to the clipboard on the desk while he finished reading the latest guidance on benefits packages.

            “Are you James Barnes?”

            “Yes, how can I help you?” Bucky looked up and frowned for a second before he forced his expression to be politely blank; the man in front of him looked like an entitled douchebag instead of a typical veteran, but this was supposed to be a judgement free zone so Bucky tried to rein in his assumptions.

            “I need to speak to you about Tony Stark.”

            “I’m sorry, who?  You know, we’re not allowed to talk about ongoing cases-”

            “Don’t be coy, son,” the man said impatiently and pulled out a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and placed it in front of Bucky.  It was a long list of phone numbers and times, many of which had been highlighted, and when Bucky looked at it he realized that his number was the one that had been marked up.  “You’ve been calling and texting with him for weeks now, several times a day.”

            “Oh.” Bucky blinked a couple of times when he realized that the man was talking about _his_ Tony. Whose last name was Stark, apparently. “Ok…what about him?” Bucky said as he handed the sheet of paper back to the man.

            “I think we’re going to need a few minutes,” the man said.  “You might want to take your lunch break.”

 

            “Stark Industries,” Bucky repeated, still stunned. “He’s a _billionaire_?”

            “I’m sorry you had to hear it from me,” Obadiah Stane said with sympathy.  “I don’t know why he didn’t tell you himself.”

            Bucky was quiet for a long time, digesting that information, before he said, “So why are you here, then?”

            Stane unbuttoned his suit jacket and smoothed his tie down as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I’ve been trying to find a nice way to say this, but I’m just going to give it to you straight.  I’ve been cleaning up after the Starks for a long time, first Howard, and then Tony when he hit puberty.  Lots of…indiscretions, disappointed people with broken hearts.”  He scratched his beard.  “Tony’s phone is billed to Stark Industries, so when I noticed that he’d been texting someone a lot all of a sudden, I realized that it was happening all over again.”  He paused, waiting for Bucky to say something, before he eventually said, “Let me guess:  he texts a lot, but can’t talk much, and never has time to see you in person.  Sound familiar?”

            “He works a lot,” Bucky said defensively.  “I know he tries-”

            “Works a lot?” Stane laughed.  “Son, Tony only comes into Stark Industries maybe two or three times a month.  That’s all he’s ever done.  I’d hoped that after his parents died, he would want to take over, but…”  He shrugged and spread his hands wide, and Bucky hated the look of sympathy that came over his face.  “Look, son, I’m just here to make sure you don’t get hurt.  You understand?”

            “I understand,” Bucky said automatically, although he didn’t really.  Just who the hell did this guy think he was?

            “You know he is also living with someone, right? Has been for a while now.”

            Bucky understood now that he needed to just keep his mouth shut, even though he knew about Pepper, had _met_ her, and she had laughed at the idea that she and Tony were dating.  For some reason Stane was playing some kind of game and Bucky was tired of giving him ammunition. “I think I need to get back to work,” he said, sliding Stane’s papers across the table and standing.  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

            “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, getting to his feet as well.  “Believe me, I just want what’s best for everyone, especially Tony, and you seem like a good kid.” 

Bucky went back to work, too stunned just yet to want to confront Tony about what Stane said.  But as the day went on and the more he thought about it, the more furious he got; how long had this guy Stane been going around sabotaging Tony’s relationships? And what lengths would he go to to make sure he got what he wanted?  The whole situation seemed fishy as hell.

            At the end of the day, Bucky set his jaw and made a decision.  It took him thirty minutes of transferred calls, dropping Tony’s name, and being on hold, but he eventually got to Stane’s personal secretary.  “Yes, I’d like to leave a message,” he said. “Tell Stane that this is James Barnes, and if he wants me to stay away from Tony Stark, he’s going to have to make it worth my while.  Otherwise, I’m going to go to the tabloids and see what kind of story they can make about it.” 

            His next call was to an old Army buddy, and then he went home and waited for the fish to bite.

 

            It didn't take long; the next day Stane just showed up at the café where Bucky was eating lunch and sat down at his table.

            “Barnes,” he said.  “That was a hell of a message you left.”

            Bucky straightened slowly and eyed Stane, wiping his mouth and taking a sip of his soda before answering.  “Well, I said I had a lot to think about, and so I did.  Then I came to a couple of realizations, namely that if you are so worried about Tony getting hurt, maybe it was worth something to you to make sure it didn’t happen.”

            “Why don’t you just tell me what you want, Barnes?” Stane said, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

            “Fine.“ Bucky leaned forward and tapped his finger against the table. “Look, the way I figure it, if he's as rich as you say, I could probably have Tony paying for things for years.  VA benefits don’t go all that far, you see what I’m saying? So if you want me to break up with him, then I want all that money up front.  If not, I hear newspapers pay good money for stories about Tony Stark, and I feel like this would be a doozy.”

            “You greedy little pissant,” Stane said after a moment, the look of blank pleasantness never leaving his face.  He patted his pocket and pulled out a cigar.  “You have no idea who you are dealing with, do you?” He light the cigar with a match then dropped the match in Bucky's drink.

            Bucky curled his lip and sat back. “What are you going to do? Take my other arm? I’ve already been through hell, old man.  You’re just another stuck up rich guy who thinks they can get whatever they want.  Well this time, to get what you want you gotta pay for it.”

            “Listen to me, you crippled piece of shit,” Stane snarled, showing the first crack in his ‘good old boy’ façade.  “First of all, you aren’t getting a fucking penny out of Stark, because that entitled brat is broke as shit, I made sure of it.” Stane took a deep drag of his cigar and blew out the smoke in Bucky’s direction.  “So if you think you’ve got yourself a sugar daddy, think again.”

            Bucky let himself scowl. _You made sure of it?_ What was that supposed to mean? “You said he was a billionaire!” He protested.

            Stane shrugged. “I lied.  Second, you might think that you have nothing to lose here, but I promise you that you do.  You aren’t the first or the second person to try to get in my way but you are the most disposable.  The suicide rate for veterans is a shame in this country, it really is.”

            Bucky blinked.  This conversation was _not_ going how he thought it would; at most he thought he would get proof of Stane trying to pay him off.  But _this?_ What in the hell was going on? “So what you’re saying is, I need to stay away from Tony for my own good,” he managed. “Or else.”

            Stane took another drag on the cigar.  “Now you’re getting it,” he said approvingly. “Tony Stark is going to crash and burn and you’d do well to stay out of the fallout zone.  Now are you going to be the one to do it, or should I?”

            “I’ll do it,” Bucky said, sliding down in his chair and looking sullen. “I’ll make up something nice.”

            “Yeah, no need for Tony to know that you’re a money-grubbing little prick, right?” Stane stood and held his cigar in his teeth as he buttoned his suit jacket. “Good talk.”

            As Stane walked away, Bucky waited for the door to close behind him and said, “Did you get all of that?”

            In his ear, his Army buddy Gabe said, “Sure as hell did. And I gotta tell you, it was worth listening to four hours of you fucking around at work all morning, because that shit was crazy.”

***

            _Tony, we need to talk_ , Bucky's text message said ominously, making Tony’s stomach drop. 

            Tony leaned against the nearest wall, knees suddenly weak as he dialed Bucky's number. “What's going on?"

            “Look, Tony, I know who you are,” Bucky said, voice kind but firm. “No more hiding, okay? I need to see you."

            “How…O-okay,” Tony said, mind still racing.  He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling like the carpet had been pulled out from under him. “Um, where do you want to meet?”

            “Wherever you think is best, sweetheart.”

            Tony let out a long relieved exhale at _sweetheart,_ knot in his stomach easing. “You can come here, to my house,” he said after a moment.  Since the cat was out of the bag anyway.

            “Perfect. Text me your address and let down your hair, Rapunzel, I’m about to climb your tower.”

            That surprised a laugh out of Tony but Bucky had already hung up. He texted Bucky his address and after a moment Bucky wrote _Ok, I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes._ “Oh, shit,” Tony said, and sprinted for the shower. He had enough time to bathe, shave, take out the trash and cram all the dishes into the dishwasher by the time Bucky was ringing the doorbell.

            “Hey,” he said as he opened the door, leaning casually against the door jamb as if he hadn’t tried on three different shirts before setting on one that flattered his skin tone and was slightly tight across the shoulders.

            “Hey, yourself” Bucky answered, and Tony could have been wearing a bathrobe for all Bucky noticed; he couldn’t seem to look away from Tony's face, eyes traveling over it like he was trying to memorize it. “So. Anthony Edward Stark.” 

            “Yeah, that’s me,” Tony said weakly. “As good as you imagined?” he joked, wanting to squirm under the weight of Bucky’s warm gaze.

            Bucky took a step forward, herding Tony past the door and closing it behind him. He smiled and cupped Tony’s face in his hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbones. “Even better,” he said, tilting his head to press a kiss to Tony’s lips. 

            "You're not mad?"

            Bucky shrugged. "I always knew you were hiding something, so it’s not like you lied to me.  It’s just…a shock.  I mean, it’d be nice to know if you’re hiding any other big, crazy secrets - ”

            “I’m not,” Tony said quickly. “Being rich and infamous, that was it, I swear.  And I'm, uh, not even that rich anymore, so.” Tony grimaced. "I didn’t want to say anything because I’ve been followed by paparazzi for my entire life, you know? Imagine all those dumb mistakes you make as a teenager being broadcast to the entire country. Parties. Breakups. Detention-"

            "Tony," Bucky interrupted, putting his hand over Tony's mouth.  "I get it, ok? I understand. You don't have to explain.  Just shut up and kiss me again."

            "Ok. I can do that." Tony fisted his hands into Bucky's shirt and pulled him in, tilting his head to cover Bucky's mouth with his own.  Bucky made a sound deep in his chest and his hand slid around to the back of Tony's head, holding him still while Bucky deepened the kiss. God, it was better than he remembered; he swayed closer as Bucky's tongue curled around his own, shivered when Bucky's teeth caught at his lower lip.  Tony could have stood there forever, lost in the drugging sensuality of Bucky's kiss, but after a few minutes he heard Pepper's surprised squeak as she caught them necking in the foyer and that was enough to break the mood.  

            “So what’s this mysterious thing we need to talk about?” Tony said as he pulled away, pressing one last kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth before leading him into the dining room that had been converted into a shared office.  

            "Right." Bucky's face grew grim and he held up a USB drive.  "I need to borrow a laptop."

 

            Tony and Pepper listened to Bucky’s recording three times.  Even after the hearing it so many times, Tony still looked dazed, but Pepper's look of surprise had hardened into righteous fury.  “Crazy, right?” Bucky said. “Do you guys have any idea what he was talking about?”

            "No," Tony said at the same time Pepper said "Yes."  When Bucky and Tony looked at her, she said, “I didn't want to say anything until I had more proof, but something's really wrong with these financial reports we've been finding."

            "What do you mean?"

            Pepper turned her laptop to face them and stood.  "Well, it started with this warehouse across the river in Jersey,” she said, leaning over Tony's shoulder pointing to the address pulled up on the screen.  “The financial statements say that SI has been paying rent on the place for years now, but I’ve never seen any records of anyone working there or any shipments going too or from the address.”

            Tony's eyebrows furrowed. “Odd.”

            “Right? So that made me wonder.  SI has been paying for this empty warehouse for _years,_ so what if there were more?  Turns out, there are a _lot_ more.  Not just empty buildings, but employees that don’t seem to exist but draw paychecks every month anyway, catering and janitorial contracts for locations that don’t have any employees, stuff like that. And it’s not just money going out.” She tapped her keyboard and the screen changed to another spreadsheet.  “There were a couple of DOD contracts where Stark Industries was awarded a bonus for finishing the contract early and under budget.” When Tony frowned, Pepper said, “I know, that’s what I thought! That’s common in commercial construction but not for military contracts.  Turns out those contracts are public record and there’s no clause in them anywhere justifying such a payment.”

            Tony was silent for so long staring thoughtfully at her computer screen that Pepper started to fidget.  “So what you’re telling me,” he said slowly, “is that my dad wasn’t incompetent. He was a crook.”

            “Um. Well,” she said, biting her lip, “if that’s true, then he was an incompetent crook. Because if he was the one embezzling all of this money, he wasn’t keeping it or else you wouldn’t be in the mess you’re in right now.”

            Tony barked out a bitter laugh. “True."

            "There's more." Pepper blew out a breath and leaned against the table, tucking her hair behind her ear and crossing her arms over her chest.  “Look, before I was reassigned to work with you, I had noticed some funny numbers on this R&D project budget.  Mostly, they seemed a lot higher than a similar project that SI had done a couple of years ago, more than would be justified by inflation.  I sent an email to my supervisor about it, but before I could meet with him, I got the letter to report here.  Then when I followed up with my replacement, he said he had no idea what I was talking about, even though I _know_ I put it in my turnover documents.” She took a deep breath and said, “My point is, I don’t think it stopped when your dad died.”

            "Stane." Tony exhaled and scrubbed his hands over his face.  "It's been him this whole time. How did my dad not notice that Stane was robbing him blind?" 

            "You heard the recording," Bucky said.  "Maybe he did."

            Pepper closed the laptop firmly, lips pressed together as if she were coming to a decision.  “Look, Tony,” she said. “I know we are both good with numbers, but if we are going to nail Stane with this, I mean really get him, we have to be bulletproof. So I think we need to hire a professional.”

            “Hitman?”

            Pepper gave him a look. “ _Forensic accountant_. Or a private detective. Or both.”

            “Right, yeah, that makes more sense,” Tony said, but as the implication of Stane's betrayal sank in, the look in his eyes said he was still thinking hitman.

            "I'm going to call around and see if I can find one that would be willing to work for a percentage of funds recovered," Pepper said, tucking her laptop under her arm and giving them both a pointed look. "I can do that from home so that you two can have time to...catch up."

            "Catch up?" Tony echoed as he walked her to the door.  "We've been talking for weeks, we don't need to 'catch up.'  What are you afraid we're going to do, have sex right here in the dining room?"  Pepper didn't answer except to give him an arch look as she got in her car.  When Tony turned around, Bucky dragged his eyes up from where he'd been staring at Tony's ass.

            "I mean, we  _could,"_ he said.

***

            What happened next didn't go like it does in the movies, with a climactic scene where everything was made right, justice was done, and the bad guys were locked up and the good guys lived happily ever after.  Tony and Bucky did get to see Stane get arrested; Bucky gave him the finger from the front door until the police car drove out of sight.  All of Stane's assets were frozen pending the outcome of the embezzlement investigations, and his bail was set at a staggering fifty million dollars. Six months later, after repeated rounds of testimony from Tony, Tony's private investigator, that forensic accountant, and countless other experts, the courts ruled in favor of Tony and finally money started flowing back _in_ to his bank account instead of _out._ When the news broke that Stane was also under investigation for the deaths of Tony's parents, the photos of Tony holding Bucky's hand during a romantic dinner barely made page four in the tabloids.

            So maybe it was a little bit like the movies, because Tony and Bucky did get their happy ending.  A lot of them, in fact, one of them even in the dining room. 

 


End file.
